


and another for the one you believe

by Ailelie



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hockey, Olympics, inspirational speech, sochi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 10:54:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailelie/pseuds/Ailelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one expected Team France to make it to Sochi for hockey, but they did. And now Enjolras is hoping to lead his team all the way to the gold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and another for the one you believe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LucyAshton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LucyAshton/gifts).



> I promised my roommate that I would write at least 300 words of the hockey!au she and I chat about if the Hawks beat the Kings in the Western Conference Final. Since Patrick Kane made the winning goal in double-overtime, here are my words. Go Blackhawks!
> 
> Thanks also to Cinaed who checked this over before I posted to make sure that the characters were IC and that I hadn't made any terrible blunders in terms of canon or spelling/grammar. 
> 
> The title is a line from "Chelsea Dagger," which is the Blackhawks' goal and victory song. 
> 
> Finally, France did not qualify for the 2014 Winter Olympics. This story, however, takes place in the impossible universe in which they did.

Enjolras sat heavy on the bench, pitched forward with his elbows on his knees. He looked around the locker room, letting silence fill up the space. He held his helmet between his hands and ignored the sweat-soaked blond strands that fell over his eyes. “Guys,” he said finally, more softly than most would expect in a locker room. “Guys,” he repeated, more emphatically and loudly. He met each person’s gaze. “What are we doing here?” No one answered. No one moved. Even Grantaire, who normally had a sarcastic remark to Enjolras’ speeches, just sat back in his stall and, though he feigned checking the tape on his stick, watched their captain.

“No one expected us to get this far,” he continued finally. “To make it past the qualifying rounds, to play here in Sochi with countries like Russia and Canada for whom hockey is a dream with which every child grows. Did you even imagine us here? In this city with a chance for the gold? We have already achieved so much that we could go home happy with our accomplishments, but do you really want to end it here? I don’t know your thoughts, but I am not done. We have shown France and the world that we are competitive, but that is only the first step. We are down 3 to 1, but I know we can still win. Be bold. Daring. They are larger than we are, but we have speed and heart. The gold medal is within our reach, we need only to grasp it.”

“You heard Apollo.” Grantaire interrupted the hopeful, pregnant silence that had followed Enjolras’ speech. Attention shifted toward him and he gave Enjolras a wry, affectionate smile. “Let’s go out and win this thing.”

Everyone pulled themselves back together, slipping on helmets and re-adjusting their pads. Enjolras and Grantaire were, as always, last to leave. Grantaire bumped his gloves against Enjolras’ forearms and hands. “For luck,” he said cheekily, adding a quick tap to Enjolras’ helmet.

“Hockey superstitions are antiquated and--” Enjolras sighed, noticing Grantaire’s expectant look. “You never listen to me,” he said, tapping Grantaire’s helmet lightly.

Grantaire gave him a complicated smile that seemed neither happy nor nervous nor anything exactly that Enjolras could discern. “Of course not,” he said. “You take everything far too seriously.”

“And you take nothing seriously.” Enjolras frowned as Grantaire laughed in the same complicated way as his smile.

“Yes, well, I’m taking this seriously.”

“Are you?”

“Of course. I believe in you, Apollo; and, you believe in us. We’re taking home the gold; I’m certain of it. Now, I think we have a game to get back to.” His smile widened into a cocky grin and he followed the others out of the tunnel.

Enjolras glanced one last time around the locker room. Four points in twenty minutes. They could do this. More than that, they would. Satisfied, he left the room and returned to the ice.


End file.
